Children of the Corn
by magsofthemuses
Summary: A collection of drabbles focusing on various characters throughout the films from the original to 'Revelation'.
1. He Who Walks

How does one prescribe gender to a God?

How does one define a God from a demon?

'He Who Walks Behind the Rows' has been around forever, before forever and will live and grow beyond the lifespan of the human race.

Some considered him a demon, a devil, while others worshiped her as Mother Nature and yet it was a small boy who gave him her most recent title. Children were so good at putting into words the most simple of things. For that was how S/He/It saw himself; as simplicity, beauty, life. Behind the eyes and mouth of a Child he would flourish.

**END**


	2. A Gift

Malachai was not a good boy, not a nice boy.

The Children rarely discussed That Day but this didn't mean that it didn't surface periodically in their minds.

That Day was always with Malachai though, like a particularly glowing piece of praise it warmed him as he lay alone at night, despite the slightly bittersweet taste it left in his mouth. It had marked the end of the Cleansing leaving him rather unsatisfied. His work had begun three days earlier with his own mother. That stupid bitch. He'd made the weapon himself and- clearly as if it happened yesterday- he remembered the slight slurping sound of it slipping between her ribs.

**END**


	3. Slither

He couldn't remember when the strange thoughts had started. When the voice (voices?) started to whisper within him and thoughts that weren't his own started to bubble.

He wasn't sure when he noticed that he was thinking things- No, not thinking things- feeling, knowing almost out of control. It's madness to wonder what thoughts are your own. It's a horror for a small child to wonder where who they are ends when already fantasy and reality can blur for them.

When thoughts started to arrive with feelings it wasn't long before understanding followed.

He saw the apple, red and shiny, and started to cry.

**END**


	4. The End

It wasn't until Malachai joined them in the field, covered in the blood of a dozen adults that she felt the last flicker of hope. Officer Rory had his gun out unnaturally fast and was speaking slowly and calmly to the red-headed youth. Ashley's heart thudded so hard against her chest she wonder if everyone around her could hear it.

Malachai smiled and pulled his stained blade out of his overalls. Officer Rory was shouting now, telling him to put it down, to get down, to drop it.

Three boys swarmed the police officer and knocked him down. Malachai's knife flashed.

**END**


	5. His Last Fear

Malachai knew he was going to die.

The moment that inhuman voice had spewed forth his name from Isaac's mouth, Malachai had known he was going to die.

He was afraid.

He was almost as afraid of dying as he was of getting beaten up by the Man again. He hated being weak, he hated being made to look foolish. He was the biggest, he was the strongest and he never lost a fight.

But he'd lost the fight against the Man. He'd lost. He'd been beaten down until he'd tasted dirt, blood and shame.

He waited while Isaac stalked towards him, he knew he was going to lose this too.

**END**


	6. Lock 'n Key

It gets hot under the stairs. Stuffy. The only fresh air comes from the draft that sometimes blows in under the door. His shoulders start to hurt after a few hours and he starts to feel like a crumpled piece of paper, one that missed the trash and is stuck between the wall and the bin.

The light flickers under the floor as feet stomp through the empty house. The door is thick so even yelling sounds muffled.

He gets so hungry at one point he starts to cry. He cries because the pain in his gut feels like knives.

**END**


	7. Awakening

The sun slowly rose over the horizon, encouraging the dew to glitter like a field of diamonds. Nestled among the grass and weeds a large, oddly shaped seedpod seemed to give a slight shudder.

Then suddenly a seam appeared and slid down the bulbous mass.

POP

Like a flower stretching to embrace the day the pod opened to reveal a small child balled up in a fetal position. As his eyes opened to take in the world a gentle breeze ruffled his tuft of curly brown hair.

He blinked.

He smiled.

The world smelled of ripeness, it smelled ready for picking. He needed only to find the right willing crop.

**END**


	8. Sometimes They Come Back

He was lost.

Too bad it wasn't at the supermarket. Most kids go through that, letting go of Mum or Dad's hand for just a second and suddenly the forest of legs are all unfamiliar. It's a horrible panic when they realize they're alone.

Usually the child spots his family moments later, smiling with arms outstretched promising comfort. They'll never leave them.

Not for him; tortured, chased and murdered. He was adrift and no one was waiting for him.

He wanted to go home. All he needed was to find one like him, a child left behind, alone.

Then he would be lost no longer.

**END**


	9. Let it Burn

… And so the last thing he ever said to her was a prayer to teach their baby to hate the world outside their little piece of Earth. Through his hate for the Outlanders, the corrupt and the desolate he would come to love their ways.

Malachai had always had strength and conviction within him. Strength that was carried in so much more than his hands. He was so much more than the rest of them.

Ruth could admit to herself that she was still a teenager, raging that she lost her boyfriend.

Hell hath no fury… The fields would be her hellfire.

**END**


	10. Through a Red Lens

Isaac spent the rest of the afternoon hovering like a hawk over the town, eyes sharp and watchful for the work that needed to be done. The mass graves out in the fields needed to be covered by nightfall. Hot days loomed and death and heat did not mix well.

He passed by the Balding barn when the faintest of sounds caught his ear. He paused, turning his head slightly to listen, then headed for the far right corner of the garden.

It was there among Old Mrs. Balding's roses he found twelve-year-old Micah. What grabbed his attention wasn't the fact that Micah lay curled in the roses, faint scratches on his exposed arms and legs. It wasn't the fact that his right eye was encircled with a fresh deep blue and purple bruise. It was the blood that had dried and soaked into his dark clothes, that stained his hands and was now crusting under his fingernails.

Micah looked up at him, his dark eyes empty and pleading.

Isaac smiled.

**END**


	11. Without Blood

Danny barely remembered the time when his parents were together. It was a blurry mush of images, shouting and smashing dishes. He knew more swear words in preschool than any other kid.

His mother went through a lot of boyfriends; Bob, Eric, Andy, Bill, Bill, Alex, Ashley (third grade was weird), Donald, Dan, Sunbeam Moonlight, Ajeet and so many others he couldn't even remember. He didn't mind so much when he was finally old enough that they stopped being introduced as an 'uncle'. He wasn't stupid.

He didn't see much of his dad. He wanted to when he was little, when his mother was really bugging him he'd scream and yell and threaten to run away to dad, to a dad who was cool and who'd understand him. When he was at his maddest he'd even call his old man and say he was going to come and live with him. It never worked out. His dad was always busy or wasn't in a good place.

Finally, sometime around his eighth birthday when he called the number it didn't work. His mom either didn't know the new one or didn't want to share. He didn't see his dad again until he was sixteen. The only contact they had between them was a birthday card every couple of years and never around his birthday. One year he even spelled his name wrong.

When his mom decided to send him to his father for her wedding to 'Shithead' Danny was less than thrilled. Long gone was his idolization of his near mystical father, his dreams of a perfect life.

He was a teenager and everything sucked right now so when he saw his dad at the airport wearing an older more weathered version of his face all he felt was the black pit in his stomach open wider.

**END**


	12. Hear Me, O Lord

_I was lost_ again. _How did the others always seem to know where to meet up? Was he just that useless? Or, were they just not bothering to share their secret plans with him? Probably. That seemed most likely._

Micah heaved a heavy sigh as he stepped carefully among the rows flicking on his flashlight, his one defense against the oppressive darkness that engulfed the field. It wasn't fair. It was beyond unfair. He wanted to kick something in a burst of frustration. He was fifteen now, old enough to be one of the Big Boys, though they'd never let him join. He was too clumsy, too slow and he chickened out at the sight of blood. He was a little wuss who'd be left behind with the babies forever.

"Guys?" Micah called tentatively trying hard to peer through the dark. A fruitless effort, it was like trying to see through a concrete wall. "Where are you?"

He should have found them by now, they'd had started a fire, they'd all be talking. He paused, listening with all his might. Nothing.

A little worm of fear started to burrow through his heart. It was really getting late now and the night seemed to be getting blacker and more intimidating if it were possible. Goosebumps raised up all along his body as he swung his flashlight around.

"Are you there?"

Maybe it had all been a joke. Maybe there was no meeting. Maybe this was another one of Mordecai's cruel jokes. Say what you wanted about Malachai being downright crazy but at least he didn't torment you for the fun of it. He never should have told Bernice he was afraid of the dark.

He tried to swallow the hard lump in his throat.

Then he heard the familiar crunch of footsteps. Someone was in here with him and close by.

"Mordecai?"

He turned and his carefully repressed fear exploded out of him like water through a broken dam. Something was in here with him but it wasn't human. It wasn't a child. It must be 'Him'. 'He'd' come to take him away. Take him away to wherever it was they would go when they went to meet him in the corn.

He wasn't ready yet! He wasn't old enough! It was a mistake, it was an accident-

There was a low growl and something in the dark surged at him.

Micah fled. Blindly running through the rows, ignoring the painful slashing of the stalks against his skin.

"No! No!"

He tripped and almost before the wind finished escaping from his lungs Micah had rolled onto his back to face his end. He threw up his hands and screamed.

**END**


	13. You Lost Me

She never joined a club. She never joined a team. She never bothered going to the church socials or dances. She never chatted on the phone. She never wished she were older so she could get herself a car and she never blushed when Geoff Kensington passed her in the hallway.

She wasn't depressed, she wasn't angry and she wasn't actually an introvert. She just knew that she didn't fit in. She loved harvest time, everything about it from the smell to the taste to the signal of day's end by the yawning of the shadows.

No one else seemed to get it. The rest of her peers were obsessed with getting cellphones since a tower was going in or driving to one of the bigger towns to check out the strip mall on weekends.

The whole mess over in Gatlin didn't really register with her. She was so removed from the whole social sphere that the whispers of horror and excitement passed her unnoticed. She didn't see the new strange faces trickle into school.

She met Jedediah when she was walking home from the store. He was sitting on a bench outside while Mrs. Bradley and Mrs. Smith gabbered behind him. He was tall and his eyes seemed... Wise.

"Hi," he said, taking advantage of her glance.

"Hi."

"My name's Jedediah."

"Rose."

"You look lost, Rose." He sounded older than he looked. He sounded like one of those men on late night TV that promised to fix your debt, your diet and your life for three installments of $19.99. The hairs raised on the back of her neck.

"So what if I am?"

"Sometimes I feel that way too."

That was all he said. Mrs. Bradley noticed the two of them talking and in a nervous hurry took his arm and pulled him away down the street. It was almost funny, a short round woman waddling as fast as she could pulling the tall, strong youth alongside her.

That night Rose went to bed early but didn't sleep. She lay there under her covers and letting her mind burble and bubble. It was like she was waking up for the first time.

**END**


	14. The Middle Head

Out of the corner of his eye Jedidiah sees a blade of grass flutter. It should have meant nothing but he could've sworn that it was waving at him. A smile stretched his lips as his vision narrowed to encompass that little, insignificant blade that rested in a crack in the sidewalk.

The city was a big place but cramped. It was home to millions of people yet he barely knew more than a handful. The air tasted acrid and foul, the heat of the summer stunk and the cold of the winter was a barely tolerated annoyance. How anyone could live here was beyond him.

He'd graduated with a GED and worked wiping tables to put himself through a community college. From there he'd moved on to actually enrolling in a university and getting himself first a degree and then a job at a bank. He hated his desk. The chair was uncomfortable and sent spasms up and down his back if he sat in it for too long. His eyes burned from sitting too close to his computer and staring at it for too long without a break. Everything was beige in his office, and even the little potted fern his wife had given him had started to wilt from the unenthusiasm of it all.

When his wife had their son and Jed held the small baby in his arms for the first time the yearning ache in his chest couldn't be denied any longer. He suggested a move might be good for all of them, country living would be healthier for their boy. She'd hated the idea but he couldn't let it go and for two years resentment, hurt and anger simmered until finally after one particularly bad fight Jed had come home to find their apartment overturned, most of their things gone. Worst of all, she'd taken their son and left no contact information.

He didn't think about his wife much anymore. He wasn't even sure if they still counted as married though he hadn't seen any divorce papers. He missed his son terribly. He'd be starting school soon. Maybe he'd grow up to be...

That thought had hit him in the wee hours of the morning and he had known then what it all had meant and what a damn fool he had been.

_"I'm sorry..."_

As his life rushed out around him, a shocking red river, Jedidiah watched the little piece of green before him. He prayed though he knew he probably wouldn't know mercy and for the first time in so long he understood it all. He had the answer.

An EMT shone a light in his eyes and spoke loudly and firmly at him to remain still but it was too late. Jed was already gone.

**END**


	15. Harvest Dawn

It was a warm summer evening and the yellowing stalks of corn seemed almost to sparkle from the fields. The stalks were so thick that once you entered the rows you could only walk along the narrow, dirt paths that wound through the throngs of the harvest and wait for sight of the end. There was no way to push to escape.

Jedediah, seventeen years old, always felt a swell of pride whenever he looked out over the fields. So much had been accomplished. So much to cherish and celebrate. In a few days time, the harvest would begin.

Naomi, her curly brown hair wild in the wind, took Jedediah's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"It seems so… Peaceful here," Jedediah said softly "I can't imagine the world beyond this."

"Godless," Naomi responded, her eyes were watching Jed closely.

"Oh come on, what's it really like?" Jedediah's brown eyes were wide in wonder.

Naomi hadn't been born in Hemingford, she'd moved here when she was about eight years old after her mother had been killed in a car crash. Sent to live with a father who had no interest in taking care of a long forgotten daughter. Jedediah reached over and brushed a loose curl behind Naomi's ear. She sighed and laid her head against his shoulder.

"You can't run barefoot anywhere. Most of the time I couldn't leave the apartment without someone with me because someone could grab you on the streets, rob you, hurt you. People were selling pills of different shapes and colors so that they could forget the broken buildings around them."

A breeze kicked up and the corn began to sway. Jedediah wrapped Naomi tightly in his arms.

"Blessed be." He murmured.

**END**


	16. The Field Mouse

A field mouse scrabbled through the grass, it's nose twitching furiously, as it searched for it's daily feed. Food drove it, fear drove it, it's mind was a whirl of insanity as it followed the trail to that demanding scent.

In the grass lay a small boy, his unruly brown hair tangled with leaves and grime as if he had been doing what millions of little boy have done throughout history: play in the dirt.

It could have been a normal little scene to any passerby; A little boy resting from an energetic day of play, eyes closed and enjoying the gentle breeze that was tickling across the grass. It could have, if it weren't for the fact the boy was as naked as the sun in the clear sky.

The fact there was a small, naked child miles from the nearest road or town didn't register with the mouse. If the mouse could wonder or feel puzzled, it would have been more concerned with the fact that the sweet smell of corn that should have been before him was in the shape of a boy.

One of the boy's eyes opened and took in the sight of the mouse. It's nose ever twitching, searching for the promised food. His hand darted out faster than the mouse could react and scooped it into the air. The little creature squealed and screamed, thrashing violently in the air as the boy took a long moment to watch it's frantic spasms.

Then the boy opened his mouth and with a crunch swallowed it whole.

**END**


	17. Runaway

The highway was almost pitch black and the odd car's headlights were shockingly bright when they appeared. Jacob would occasionally pause and wave a hand but no one ever stopped.

Then in the distance: sirens.

Police! Shit. He couldn't know that they were after him. They might just pass him by but who wanted to risk it?

There was only one place to go.

Pushing forward Jacob submerged himself into the corn and started to push forward. If he kept going he was bound to come across a farmhouse. Maybe he could hide in a barn out of the rain and get some sleep.

He didn't go far before he felt his fingers and toes going numb. Then it got so dark he couldn't even see the corn any longer it was just sharp, snapping whips surrounding him. He was freezing, he was in pain and all he could hear with the constant squish squish of his rain-filled sneakers.

His footsteps started to slow until finally Jacob swayed and fell to the ground. Freezing, starving and exhausted the young boy could go no further.

He opened his eyes.

The first thought that cross his mind was his sheets were a little itchy. The second sent him shooting up in bed.

"Relax, you're alright."

Jacob looked over at the man sitting in the corner. He was tall and thin with dark intense eyes.

"My name is Luke Enright and you seemed to have gotten yourself lost in my field," he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What were you doing out there?"

Jacob swallowed.

"No one is going to hurt you. You're safe here," he leaned forward, "You were looking for us weren't you?"

Jacob hesitated for a long moment then slowly nodded.

Luke smiled.

"Welcome to the Flock," Luke got to his feet, "I'll send in Lily with something to eat."

Jacob lay back against his pillow and stared up at the ceiling until his vision blurred and hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

**END**


	18. Day at the Beach

When Lily finally figured out she was pregnant Jacob hadn't been happy. Sure, he'd smiled and hugged her and promised her anything she needed but inwardly he was quaking. It wasn't that his eighteenth birthday would come before it's-her birth. Lily was only fifteen, she'd have a few years with the baby. It was the resurgence of memories of his own father that filled him with fear.

He did his best to case the dark thoughts with sunshine, with his earliest good memory: Mom, Allison and himself at the beach.

He'd remembered he'd found a shell but a huge wave had knocked him over and swept it away. He cried and cried until Allison had offered him the prettiest shell she'd found. They'd raced to mom to show her and she'd smiled and pronounced them all perfect.

When the sun had fallen on that day it was like it had set over his life. Mom had wasted away soon after and they'd been left with their father. A hard, angry man who drank and smelled of sick and rot. He drank and beat them until finally Allison didn't come home from school one day. The beatings got worse and he was small enough that he couldn't turn his rage and pain against other kids at school. He was a victim in his home and out.

So he'd left and the moment he'd woken up on Luke Enright's farm it was like the sun had risen once more.

Now he was going to be a father and his dark past hovered. He had so much anger in him, so much pain, would he pass that on to a child?

Perhaps it was best that they'd never meet.

**END**


	19. Kane's Bar

Kane opened the bar in May of 1988. It had been a fairly lackluster opening since the place had always been a bar and no one really expected it to change occupations. Opening for a few years, closing, opening again for a week, closing. Nobody could seem to keep the place afloat. So when Kane found himself with deed in hand no one really cared but him.

He figured _he_ could be the one to make it work. He was young, maybe all the place needed was some new blood.

So here he was, years later, still on the line of being in the black. The taps never cleaned, the windows unwashed and the pervasive order of pot and cigarettes clouding the air. You'd walk in and the denizens of the place would blink and skitter away from the light.

It was a dive. It was the dive underneath rock bottom.

It hadn't taken long for Kane to realize... They liked it that way. They hadn't wanted new blood, that'd been the problem all along, all they'd wanted was a reflection of the town. They wanted a place where the dark cloud was visible and where you couldn't see the long, endless rows of corn. A place where for once you couldn't smell the damn silo.

**END**


	20. Lost Soul

Isaac had slept in his coma for so long that his legs had taken days to work properly again.

As he lay there listening to Cora talk about what he had missed; the years gone by, the failure to cultivate His Vision, Isaac felt something new bloom within his chest. Cora's words watered it and the constant pain that shuddered down his spine helped it grow.

He had done everything right.

Everything.

It wasn't fair that he was being punished like this, cursed, damned to the pain of adulthood for not offering himself. How could he?

It wasn't his fault.

**END**


	21. Who Am I?

Hello? Hello?

Are you there?

… Am I?

_He couldn't really see. It was like trying to peer down a very long corridor filled with smoke._

What?

_There was a shudder of pain in his shoulder like he had fallen. He would probably have a bruise but he couldn't turn to check._

Who?

_He couldn't remember his name other than it was something stupid. Something a parent would've liked but was often death for a kid in the playground. He couldn't remember his mother's face. A mother or a father. The harder he tried to think about them the faster they seemed to slip away. A fish fighting free leaving him further adrift._

Where?

_He'd left. He'd walked. He'd been alone. Then someone had found him. Or had he found them?_

How?

_He was thrown into fire. Thrown into fire by a woman with mad, fiery eyes. She'd scared him. Her hands grinding into his arms until he'd wanted to cry and scream at her to stop. What had he done? What had he done? Then he fell and it was fire all around him. _

**END**


	22. Eyes Wide Open

The dreams are getting worse.

Hannah thinks of them as 'worse' since now she no longer has to have her head hit her pillow at night or close her eyes to see them. Now it's like they pass before her, walk beside her, live with her.

Like almost any other teenager, even one without visions, she worries she's going crazy.

She feels like she's grown up with 'The Boy'. The part of her visions she's never told anyone about and she's never even seen his face, that's always been shrouded in shadows. He's never spoken but she knows she's heard his voice. She's run and played with him and sometimes he's climbed into bed with her when it's been a stormy night.

The other she saw was a woman, a woman with eyes like hers and for the first time Hannah wonders about the person her parents adopted her from.

Maybe this is what all adoptees go through though she doesn't know any others to ask. Maybe she's suppose to go seek out her birth-mother.

She brings the idea up at the dinner table one night and her parents are less than thrilled. She can understand, they're her parents and with all the time they've had her (since she was a baby) they don't want to be replaced.

Of course she won't replace them, she just wants answers.

The Boy nods, it's a good idea, taking her little road trip of discovery. Soon she'll be leaving childhood behind and bigger things will await her and she wants to know where she comes from before then. Is that such a bad thing?

The Boy smiles.

**END**


	23. Waiting

Dawn split over the treetops in a brilliant shock of light that momentarily blinded Samson. His seat in the nook of the hundred year-old birch gave him a clear view over the miles and miles of bright lanes of corn. The gentle rustling of the wind through the stalks was lulling and Samson felt his eyelids droop until the call of some bird startled him awake.

The empty road loomed before him.

He hadn't seen so much as a single vehicle in weeks, this was getting ridiculous not to mention mind-bogglingly dull.

He wondered what Rebecca was up to. Rebecca, beautiful Rebecca. He needed to fess up to her about his feelings. He only had a few more years left before it would be his time to walk into the rows. He shivered. The embrace of 'He Who Walks Behind the Rows' despite all of Isaac's sermons still left him wondering. What really happened? Did he make you one with the Earth? Did you go to heaven if you were true follower? To hell?

He hadn't killed anyone which to Malachai made him pathetic which was the reason he was stuck doing this dull job. He wished something would happen. Something so that he could prove himself worthy and maybe get in with the Big Boys instead of being a wuss left back with the girls.

Stupid boring Nebraska.

Maybe he should run away.

Maybe Rebecca would come with him.

Maybe she wouldn't.

**END**


	24. My Last Service

It was Zeke's 18th birthday.

He didn't eat breakfast, his nerves and excitement stole away any appetite so he spent the morning playing with his son. Aaron's second birthday was next week and Zeke's only regret was that he wouldn't be there to celebrate, or see his first harvest, or his first offering. Or even when he discovered there was more to life than sticking your finger up your nose.

Aaron's mother's eighteenth birthday had been about six months ago and not a day went by without her face gracing Zeke's thoughts. Now, on the day he would walk into the field, questions crowded in his head. Would he see her again? Would they be together? What lay beyond? Would he remember his life? Would he remember Aaron?

He patrolled that day with Samson. Samson was usually chatty but today he seemed reserved, withdrawn. As they headed back into town for dinner finally Samson spoke:

"Are you scared?"

"Not really," Zeke shrugged, "It's my time."

"But you don't really know what's going to happen when you walk into the field," Samson was frowning.

Zeke shrugged again.

"What if you're just dead?" Samson whispered.

"Then it was time to die. We live according to His Will, His Way," Zeke put his arm around Samson's shoulders, "You've got more than a year to go. It's not your time so of course you're not feeling ready."

"What if I never am?" Samson asked softly.

Before Zeke could answer several of the others hollered for them to hurry up. No one could eat before Isaac said the blessing and honoured Zeke. Samson's concerns were immediately tossed aside at the prospect of food and the two boys dashed towards dinner.

Isaac had been the prophet for only six months and yet his words held more fervor and fierceness than David's ever had. David had wanted to overwhelm them with strength and love while Isaac seemed to want to fill them with fear and humbleness. It was probably because of Malachai, the tall imposing red-head at Isaac's right hand. The latest leader of the Big Boys' arrogance followed him like a cloud.

Isaac began to speak and everyone bowed their head but for a few of the babies too young to understand. Zeke recognized Aaron's happy gurgle.

He smiled. Tabitha would be proud of them.

**END**


	25. The World is Burning

Hattie had originally only joined up because her friends had wanted to. Her dad was gone and her mother did the best she could but was sometimes coldly distant. Her mom's long working hours often gave Hattie too much freedom to wander unsupervised in a neighborhood populated by drugs, violence and sex.

Her friends probably hadn't thought it'd ever come to this. The whole idea was very appealing, very empowering and not in a 'Ra ra ra! Our parents suck! They don't give me lunch money! They won't buy me a puppy!' way. It was more than that. Richer.

Abel was truly something to behold, he had such charisma Hattie had thought to herself. Charisma, that'd been a word on her mom's 'Word-A-Day' calender. It worked but it almost wasn't a big enough word for him.

He never smiled. That was sort of funny. She'd never met someone who never smiled.

The night of the fire Abel had seemed more passionate than usual if that were possible. Weaving his spell over the crowd tighter and stronger than ever. When he'd started passing out the matches, the cups of liquid, the paper and the wood Hattie had just stared. Uncomprehending.

She'd watched, hands clasped as a few of Abel's most devout started to spread out around the tent. Hattie blinked, or tried to, but it felt like her eyelids were too heavy. Her head dropped, it was too heavy and threatened to sink into her chest.

Abel had stopped talking. Hattie slowly turned her eyes back to the crate on which he stood. His golden hair framing his chubby, cherubic face.

He raised a match.

"This is your final test."

He struck it and as the little flame flared to life he let it drop to the ground.

The flames burst into a raging inferno intensely fast. It tore around the tent, confining them, binding them to Abel. Hattie's heart thud in her chest, terrified but she, like those around her, remained rooted to her seat. It didn't take long for the fire to reach it's first meals and that's when the screams started. It was like the fire awakened them to the fact this was it, this was no game, they were all going to die.

_I'm not ready to die._

Slowly, shaking, Hattie got to her feet. Abel's eyes flickered to her and for a moment she felt her resolve start to melt away.

_No._

She turned and fled. Fled through the exits that no longer existed but for a raging inferno. Through the flames and as they licked her, marked her, she felt her resolve thicken.

She ran. Her clothing on fire, her hair burned away until some passerby saw the little girl aflame and tackled her to the ground to put her out.

Hattie had lived in the hospital for a long time after that and she still felt the burning long after her scars had set. She still saw Abel's gaze through the flames every time she closed her eyes.

Why had she run? Why hadn't she stayed? Why had she left everyone?

She hadn't left them. They'd moved on without her, to a place she hadn't felt ready for. They might come back though. She had no illusions about Abel and what he might be capable of. He might come back.

She never had a good night sleep again.

**END**

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who read all of these short little works of fanfiction! I had loads of fun writing them and now it's time now to move onto new ideas and new stories. 'Till next time! xoxo_**  
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